


Friendly Contacts

by i_write_a_lot



Category: Person of Interest (TV), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bad guys, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Harold Finch and Tony Stark were friends once, Humor, John's just as much of a badass as Clint and Natasha, Minor Harold Finch/John Reese, Other - Freeform, bringing friends back from the dead, look they both built supercomputers, supercomputers talk to one another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:25:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_a_lot/pseuds/i_write_a_lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You built an intelligent supercomputer, and you haven’t even given it a good <i>name</i>?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendly Contacts

**Author's Note:**

> -I do not own Person of Interest or The Avengers.
> 
> -Kudos and Comments much appreciated. Thanks for reading.

When John came in to see Harold that morning, he hadn’t been expecting an argument. He tensed, getting a gun prepared, as he slid against the wall and paid close attention to what words were being said, calculating each move and figuring out what to do next…

And was taken by surprise when Harold finally was overridden in the argument by an all too familiar voice that he’d heard on television multiple times. 

“You built an intelligent computer, and you haven’t even given it a good _name_?”

John froze, but not because the voice was familiar. 

It was because there was something pointing into his back. 

“Move forward,” A voice said coolly, and he slowly stepped forward into the light. 

Tony Stark was standing right in front of Harold, and he was relieved to see that Harold was unharmed. The only thing wrong with Harold, it seemed, was that he was radiating annoyance, but John had heard that Tony Stark could annoy God, he was that irritatingly insufferable. 

“Agent? Who’s this?”

“My…Agent,” Harold said, making John blink in surprise at the term. “John.” 

“Got a last name with that?” Stark asked, grinning. 

“No,” John said flatly, gaining a frown from Tony who whirled back to the man who had lowered the weapon from John. John didn’t turn around, not caring who it was that had somehow managed to sneak up on him. “Harold, what’s going on?”

“Meet my financer, Mr. Stark.” Harold said, sighing. “He thought that I’d died, when I’d vanished from my job to create the supercomputer. It seems that his supercomputer-”

“Jarvis,” Stark interjected with a grin. 

“Somehow communicated with mine when searching for a new case,” Harold said, scowling and looking irritated with himself. “And Jarvis informed Mr. Stark what was going on, and here we are.”

“And look, you’re alive! You’re the second person to do this to me, Agent’s pulled the death card too,” Stark sounded put out. 

“Oh?” At that, Harold actually sounded interested, and John turned finally when a new voice entered the fray. 

“Sir, I have incoming contact with Black Widow. It seems that she’s having trouble with a bunch of creeps that are tracking her down the street. She’s requesting to take them all out before she leads them straight here,”

For a moment there was silence, and John stared at another familiar person.

Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, from the Avengers. 

He couldn’t believe it. 

“Tell her to lead them here, I want to see just how good Harold’s protector is,” Stark said, grinning broadly as he made the statement before ‘Agent’ could. 

John didn’t bother looking at him as he began heading towards the door. 

“Don’t bother leading them here. I can find them,” He said, and as he left he could hear Stark protesting, 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I-Agent, Barton-Harold, damn it, is he like the rest of us who can’t follow orders at all?”

John didn’t hear Harold’s response, but didn’t particularly care. 

He gave a feral smirk as he started jogging down the street, sniffing the air like a trained mutt looking for blood.

He was going hunting.  
\--  
End


End file.
